Voodoo Kiss
by akane47
Summary: EGB A girl inherits a mysterious family heirloom and needs the Extreme Ghostbusters' help to eliminate an evil spirit and learn more about her ancestors' past.


**Disclaimer:** The Extreme Ghostbusters and their world are the intellectual property of Adelaide Productions and Columbia Pictures Television. This fic is named after the title of a Mr. Big song, and "The Demon Lord of Karanda" is the title of a book in the Malloreon series by David & Leigh Eddings. Only Professor Armstrong and the Fournier family belong to me.

**Author's Note:** My first Ghostbusters fanfic in over 15 years! I was a huge fan of _The Real Ghostbusters_ when the series first ran, and enjoyed _Extreme Ghostbusters_ a lot, too. Please read/review!

**Voodoo Kiss**

_Chapter 1_

"Mr. Jackson."

The voice, gentle yet laced with authority, led Roland Jackson to pause in the middle of his speech on the life cycle of ghosts. (A shame, because his example, the Demon Lord of Karanda, was particularly fascinating.) He blinked at his Philosophy 103 (Metaphysics) professor. "Yes, ma'am?"

"This is all very interesting," Professor Armstrong told him, "and I do not doubt your data and analyses for a second, but the purpose of this exercise is to apply the concepts and reasoning we are learning in this class to prove that ghosts exist."

"Oh, I was getting to that!" he answered eagerly, relieved that he had that covered. "I just thought I'd share a little extra with everyone first."

"Well, so that we have enough time for the students who are still waiting to share their own ideas on this subject, perhaps you could skip directly to that part." Professor Armstrong gave him a sympathetic smile. "If it is permissible, you can leave a copy of your data with me in case anyone in class would like to know more about your ghost. I must say I myself am curious."

"Yeah, I can do that," Roland said. He had, of course, sought Egon Spengler's permission to study the demon and share the data beforehand.

"All right. You may proceed."

* * *

"It was a good speech," Kylie Griffin assured Roland after class. She was in Professor Armstrong's class, too, and she could tell that he was feeling bad about how things had gone down. They were presently sitting in Kline's Kafé, one of the small coffee shops surrounding New York City College, where Kylie had treated Roland to a coffee to make him feel better.

"It wasn't what Armstrong wanted," he mumbled, stirring his coffee in mindless circles.

"Sure it was!" she said bracingly. "You just...needed to get around to it, that's all. She told you at the end that it was a good speech, didn't she? And she was interested in your data."

"She was just being nice."

Kylie gave an inward sigh. Pep talks did not seem to be her strong suit.

"And of course she had to have Gabrielle Fournier give _her_ presentation right after me," Ronald went on. "She's really good at this metaphysics stuff. I bet she made me look twice as bad."

"That's not true. I mean, Gaby's speech was good, but so was yours."

Just then, the door to the cafe opened and a tall, slender girl walked in. "Speak of the devil," Roland grumbled. With her smooth, cocoa-colored skin, long braids and brightly colored bohemian clothes, Gaby Fournier was kind of hard to miss.

"Relax, Roland. She's not going to sit with us."

"Hi, Kylie," Gaby greeted her as she passed their table on her way to the counter. Her dark eyes flicked over Roland and she nodded to him, too. "Hi, Roland."

"Hey, Gaby," Kylie replied for the both of them. She smiled politely at the other girl before returning to the Sisyphean task of cheering up her fellow Ghostbuster. "Look, think of this as growing pains. Professor Armstrong wasn't expecting you to know this stuff cold right away. That's why we're in school — to learn, right? ...And you're learning, aren't you?"

"Well, I'm sure not going to forget how to use metaphysical reasoning to prove that ghosts exist anytime soon," Roland said wryly, and then sighed. "I'm sorry, Ky," he continued in a gentler tone. "I shouldn't take my frustrations out on you. I just wanted to do well. I really should just get over it and do better next time.

"And hey, it could have been worse, right?" he went on. "If you hadn't helped me prepare for this, I would have totally bombed. I owe you a lot."

"Forget about it," Kylie answered. "After all, what are friends for?"

Roland smiled at her and she smiled back, relieved. She had come close to getting those clown ghosts out of the containment unit to cheer Roland up permanently.

* * *

"Hi, Mom!" Gaby called as she entered the Fourniers' apartment and saw her mother's coat hanging on the rack by the door.

"Hi, sweetie!" answered Mrs. Fournier's voice. "I'm in the kitchen!"

Sure enough, Gaby's mother was seated at the kitchen table with her laptop and a pile of papers. She finished punching some figures into the computer, squinting thoughtfully at the screen over the eyeglasses sliding down her nose, and then smiled at her daughter. "Hello, Gaby," she said. "How was school?"

"Fine," Gaby replied. "I gave my metaphysics presentation today, and I think it went great." Just then, she noticed the small package at Mrs. Fournier's elbow. "Hey, what's that?"

"Oh, I almost forgot — this came for you today. It's from your dad's cousin Marie in New Orleans."

"Hmm." She took the package and pulled off its brown paper wrapping. Lifting off the lid and the folded letter lying on top of the package's contents, she found, nestled in a bed of cotton, a delicate gold chain supporting a pendant in the shape of a rose.

"It's beautiful!" her mother said, taking a closer look. "I bet it's an antique. Why would they send you something like that?"

By now, Gaby was reading the letter that had come with the jewelry. Her expression grew sad. "This says Great-Aunt Adele is dead. This pendant was hers; Marie wanted me to have it to remember her by."

Great-Aunt Adele was actually her father's great-aunt, but Gaby seemed to remember that that was what everyone in Calcasieu Parish called her. She had only vague memories of the old woman from her childhood visits to her father's hometown. Those visits had stopped when Gaby's father died, and apart from sending cards at Christmas, Gaby and her mom had pretty much lost touch with the Fourniers.

"Oh, no. How sad. She was an interesting woman, from what I remember. I wish we could have been notified about the funeral so we could have gone and said goodbye."

Gaby nodded. "I'll write a note," she said. "I should thank Marie for remembering me and sending me the pendant, anyway."

* * *

It was turning out to be an uneventful Friday night.

"I can't believe everyone's staying in tonight, even the ghosts," redheaded Garrett Miller complained. "So much for New York being the city that never sleeps."

"Well, _I'm_ glad the ghoulies are takin' a break," Eduardo Rivera drawled from his usual spot in front of the TV. "That means I'm free to enjoy my weekend."

"Doing what? Sitting around doing nothing? Let me tell you something, Eddie — it gets old real fast."

"Now, now, boys," Janine Melnitz said as entered the dining area with a steaming pan of lasagna in her oven-mitted hands and Slimer, the Ghostbusters' pet ghost, bobbing excitedly in her wake. Kylie brought up the rear with a large bowl of salad and much less attention from the greedy green ghost. "Let's not start squabbling just to have something to do. Instead, why don't we all take advantage of this quiet time and enjoy a nice, home-cooked meal?"

"Sounds good to me," Roland remarked as he and Egon Spengler, the Ghostbusters' mentor, arrived from their equipment check downstairs. Slimer gurgled in agreement.

"At least it's something to do," Garrett groused, wheeling over to the table.

"Take your seats, everybody," Janine directed, "before the food gets cold."

"Yeah," Eduardo said, slouching into the chair beside Kylie's. "That salad's not gonna stay warm forever."

The dark-haired girl scowled and shoved the salad bowl into his hands. "Be nice."

There was a clatter of china and silverware (and hopeful whines from Slimer) as everyone helped themselves to salad and iced tea. Janine beamed at the homey scene. Even if _a certain someone_ was taking his sweet time in the relationship department, she thought dryly, at least she had the new team to mother. "How did your metaphysics presentation go today, Roland?" she asked as she dished up the lasagna.

"Not as well as I had hoped," Roland answered honestly.

"What happened?" Eduardo asked, slapping Slimer away as the ghost tried to dive-bomb his plate. "Did you mispronounce a word or somethin'?"

"My guess is he didn't stand up right away when his name was called," Garrett suggested with an impish grin.

_"No,"_ Roland told them, rolling his eyes. Why did they always pick on him for wanting to do well in school? "It wasn't any of those things. I put in too much technical stuff in the beginning and didn't get around to the metaphysics fast enough."

"I thought the hard data would add a little something extra to your report," Egon said.

"I did, too, but Professor Armstrong wanted to hear more application of what we were discussing in class."

"She appreciated the data, though," Kylie added quickly. "She asked for a copy of Roland's paper so anyone who wanted to see the data had the chance to do it. She said she wanted to see it, too."

Egon nodded approvingly. "I'm glad to see Mary Armstrong is keeping an open mind to paranormal phenomena, unlike so many others on the faculty. Metaphysics and the paranormal somewhat intersect, after all. Perhaps I should speak with her about holding a joint seminar."

Everyone jumped as Janine slapped down a plate of lasagna in front of Egon, splattering some tomato sauce on the front of his sweater. "Oops! Sorry," she growled. "Lost my grip for a moment."

"I'll say," Garrett muttered.

* * *

It was almost midnight when Gaby finished writing the note for Cousin Marie. She folded the letter neatly and placed it in an envelope. After addressing it and adding a stamp, she put it in the front pocket of her bag so she wouldn't forget to drop it off at the post office first thing in the morning.

Gaby lifted the necklace out of its box. The pendant swung gently from her fingers, glinting dully in the lamplight. It was really nice of Marie to remember her, she thought, even though it had been a long time since she and her mom had visited Louisiana.

As she admired the workmanship of the rose-shaped pendant, Gaby noticed that there was a tiny hinge on one side of it. A thin, almost invisible line ran along the side of the pendant, splitting it in half lengthwise. It was a locket!

Carefully, she began trying to pry it open. It was difficult because there was no catch on it, but she managed to gain purchase with her fingernail and breathlessly eased the two halves apart.

The pendant held nothing more than a very old, sepia-toned photograph, but the woman in the portrait bore a remarkable resemblance to Gaby. Of course, she was wearing a high-necked blouse and her hair was in an old-fashioned bun, but she had the same high cheekbones, full lips and slightly tilted dark eyes.

Was it Great-Aunt Adele when she had been younger? Probably not; the picture looked like it came from far earlier. She was most probably another, older ancestor. The idea — and the family resemblance — made Gaby shiver.


End file.
